


Too Close To the Sun

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cheating, M/M, cuckoldism, sad daves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro has long been everything that Dave is not. So when Dave finally gets John, he feels vindicated that he finally has something that his brother will never have. </p><p>He is wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Close To the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh, this was written for a request on Tumblr! 
> 
> I don't really believe Bro would ever do this, but I just did what the request asked and tried to make it believable.

 

 

 

Bro’s always had it all.

Bigger than you, stronger than you, faster than you. More ironic than you could ever dream to be. And for awhile, that was all right. It gave you someone to look up to, someone to strive to be, someone you could idolize with perfect gentility and honesty and zero percent irony because deep down there was nothing satirical about the way you felt about your Bro. The way you admired him, the way you wanted to  _be_ him. 

However, after awhile, as you started to spring up like a weed, as your limbs grew too long for your torso and hormones reared their ugly heads over each square inch of your body, these feelings began to change. 

You began to see Bro not as an endgame, not as goal, but rather as an  _obstacle._  As an object of jealousy rather than one of idolization.Every time you would try to grow above a certain point it seemed Bro would cut you down like he would a daring blade of grass. And it was shameful. It _hurt you._ You weren’t sure if this debasement was intentional or not but your blossoming teenaged angst blinded you to any rational deconstruction and made you segway directly into resentment and bitterness. 

Your feelings grew dark, and they pulled you down with them. 

And then, for a brief shining fucking glorious moment of a chorus of lion-headed angels belting Halle- _motherfucking_ -lujah the dark cloud above you had somehow been torn apart like a wet piece of toilet paper and John Egbert had plopped his adorable ass into your life. And for awhile, you were happy. 

With John, it seemed you finally had something that was your  _own_. Something that Bro couldn’t touch, something you could lord over him. You felt that in some way you had  _won_ —you had succeeded where he hadn’t. You had affection, you had love, you had cuddles and eskimo kisses and nights on the couch with stupid movies while in the kitchen he ate Chef Boyardee out of the can. Bro ceased to be much of an obstacle in your life because with John you felt like you were  _flying._ Every time the emotions about your brother blocked your path it felt like John would grab your hand and take you high above the tropopause and into the outer rings of the atmosphere where the claws of anger and self-doubt could never reach you. 

But, as it turned out, Bro had maintained a chain around your feet even miles up and away into the space of your blissful relationship with John. 

You feel it tugging with every suspicious thump you hear coming from Bro’s room one night when you had come home late from your part time job. John had said he’d wait up for you. With every step, every thump, every whisper and whimper that gets louder and louder and clearer and clearer you feel yourself being dragged back to earth, your stomach clenching and threatening to bottom out. You get to Bro’s room and just as your tear the door open there’s a loud and  _familiar_  cry. 

Your Icarus of a poker-face facade burns upon reentry and your face  _twists_  in horror, in disgust, in  _sadness_  at the image of Bro naked and sweaty and fucking your John into the bed. 

You must have thrown open the door with more force than you’d needed to because it bangs against the wall and causes both Bro and John to look up at you. John’s eyes are glassy and blind but after a moment he seems to recognize you and he looks petrified. He cries out your name and you clench your fist into the doorframe. 

John tries to apologize, tries to collect his clothes and cover up his nakedness and he’s ashamed and  _crying_  but the only one you have eyes for in that moment is Bro. Bro, calm and cool and stoic as he’s ever been, paying no mind to the tears and shame of his bedmate—of  _your_  John. Your wings.

Cool as the shackles around your ankles and stoic and strong as the wall that now again confronts and blocks you at every turn. 

You crack. You hit the ground with a resounding  _boom_  and your wax wings shatter and melt and you charge at Bro, throwing John aside as you screech and grab and claw for his throat.

_So help you, you will tear down this wall with your own bare hands._


End file.
